


2:38 AM

by snackdubbbz



Category: Cancer Crew
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Idubbbz - Freeform, Implied Relationships, M/M, Maxmoefoe - Freeform, cancer crew - Freeform, filthyfrank - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 16:51:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10995000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snackdubbbz/pseuds/snackdubbbz
Summary: It's 2:38 AM and George can't sleep; Ian and Max are to blame.





	2:38 AM

2:38 AM. It was 2:38 AM and George was wide awake, staring up at the ceiling of Max's spare bedroom. He rolled onto his side, blinded by the green light of the digital clock as he shoved his head under his pillow, trying to block out the noise from the next bedroom. It was no surprise to George that Max was loud, he always was, but George thought he would at least try to be quiet seeing it was fucking 2:38 in the morning and he was having a cheeky fuck with his best friend in the next room. It wasn't like this was too shocking to George, the fresh love bites that has mysteriously appeared on Max since they day Ian and George had flown in had given it away, but never the less it was still a bit of a surprise. He could hear Ian shushing Max gently followed by some words he couldn't make out, but George was pretty damn sure he heard his name somewhere in the muffled whispers. Ah yes, George, the unknowing third wheel, the cancer to their crew, the one who was stuck unable to sleep in the middle of the night while the other two went at it. They hadn't even thought to invite him. Rude. Max had quieted down for a minute and George deemed it safe to remove his head from under the pillow. He almost instantly regretted it though, as the bed in the room next door let out obscene squeaks. He was now forced to imagine their pace, it was quick and he could only guess rough. George flushed a little, trying not to think too hard about who was giving and taking- "Oh Ian, harder," the obnoxious Aussie shouted, answering George's question for him. Of fucking course it was Max. Fucking cross dressing, curly haired, vomit bitch Max. He was not what he seemed, Max wasn't a sweet innocent boy who George and Ian corrupted in their own alcoholic princess, but the mastermind behind all their videos, the one who suggested ideas too gross for even George to agree too. George had a sneaking suspicion that Max was the one who created him and Ian's little situation too. And Ian, poor inexperienced, awkward Ian, was wrapped around Max's little finger. He probably thought he was in control, fucking Max into the bedsheets while he begged for it, but Max was the mastermind and if he was getting railed by Ian then it was exactly what he had planned to get. Max's moans grew louder and the bed squeaked faster, clearly Ian had given up on trying to keep them quiet because soon he too was groaning gently. Max was so loud, the inconsiderate bastard, and his moans were so high, so desperate that if George closed his eyes he could imagine it was a chick, and not him best (and clearly male) friend taking dick. Rolling over on his side, George stuck his head under the pillow again and squeezed his eyes shut; still fully determined to get a good nights sleep for the long day of filming tomorrow. Unfortunately the pillow did nothing to block out Max's feminine moans and regrettably George's body had began to react. He wasn't even at half mast yet but he was blushing, trying to think of weaboos, vegans- anything to get himself back to normal. Couldn't Max just be quiet for once in his life? It had begun to occur to George this this was probably what Max had wanted to begin with, one boy in his bed and another getting all hot and bothered listening in the room next door. It wasn't that he wanted to bang Max, per say, but George couldn't deny that there was something about the boy that intrigued him. Probably the dresses... and the long feminine hair... and those high pitched moans. Okay, that last part was a new development but George was more curious now than ever, and hey, a hole is a hole.  
"Ah Max, Max!" Ian was yelling Max's name over and over as Max moaned. George's hand had traveled absent mindedly traveled to his pants and he had inched closer to the wall, no longer trying to drown out the noises. God it had been a while since he'd gotten laid, he must be goddamn desperate if he was even considering jacking off to this shit show. But luckily his decision was made up for him as Ian let out a loud groan and one last yell of Max's name before the squeaking of the mattress slowed. As the boys came down from what one could guess was a pretty mind blowing experience George lay just one wall away blushing furiously. He was angry at Max for putting him in this position, what was he supposed to do now? Go over there and give them hell? No, he was pretty sure he didn't want to see whatever the aftermath of those sounds were. Casually ask how Max's ass felt over breakfast tomorrow? George giggled, that might work. But pretend it never happened? He couldn't, George knew he was going to hold this over the fags heads until the day they died. He grinned evilly to himself, rolling over and closing his eyes; George couldn't wait until tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> This ones kinda short but I'm working on a long George and Max fanfic so maybe look forward to that?


End file.
